


TBTFTNK - Undergoing Revision

by anxyptid



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Anxiety, Body Image, Bullying, Comfort, Coming Out, Crush at First Sight, Dark Past, Depersonalization, Derealization, Dissociation, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Insomnia, M/M, Malnutrition, Minor Violence, Multi, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Drugs, Scars, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Sleep Deprivation, Smoking, Teenage Dorks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-04 16:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20474309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxyptid/pseuds/anxyptid
Summary: Currently undergoing revision. Please read the last chapter aka Update #2 for more information.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for Sanders Sides - First time writing in a long time actually. Hopefully it's decent. Not beta'd 'cause I have no friends lmao.

“Hey freak!”

The sound of the grating voice echoed around the empty high school hallway and Thomas tilted his head curiously as he reached the corner, his sneakers letting out nearly inaudible squeaks as the soles passed over the linoleum. Peeking around the bricks covered in flaking white paint, his chocolate brown eyes widened as he took in the scene before him.

Chad (of course the school’s number one bully was named Chad) Ashington had a fellow high schooler pressed up against the lockers that lined the side of the hallway. His carefully tousled auburn hair, definitely not styled to look perfectly disheveled to the point of being annoying, shone in the light from the slightly flickering fluorescent bulbs above. His swamp colored eyes were narrowed and his thin lips were pressed into a sneer as he peered down at the guy who stood a foot shorter than himself. His cliche jock outfit and bulk, complete with footballer’s letterman jacket and jeans that were loose enough to be casual but still tight enough to hug the curves of his admittedly attractive legs momentarily caught Thomas’ attention but it was quickly stolen by the other male across from him.

He had on a black hoodie, criss-crossed with grey plaid, arms stuffed casually in the pockets. The hood was pulled up over his hair - a charcoal brown, almost dark enough to be mistaken for black. His full lips were pulled into a smirk and Thomas couldn’t see his eyes, shadowed by the teen’s bangs and the hood. His thin legs were encased in black skinny jeans, torn at the knees - not artfully-so but as if they’d been shredded whilst dragged across the floor. A pair of worn black Converse completed the outfit.

_‘Who is that?’_ Thomas wondered to himself absentmindedly as he continued watching, his arms wrapped around the thick binder against his chest. He hadn’t noticed this person before in any of his classes so he assumed he was in a different grade or something. Chad, of course, was known throughout the school, even to the new student. He was a senior at the age of 18, having been held back a year sometime in his life. Thomas shook his head and wrinkled up his nose as he focused more on what was happening.

“Yes, Chaddington?” The darker teen answered, his low, gravelly voice pulling into a drawl as he acknowledged the taller guy’s words. He seemed none too intimidated, as if he was used to being referred to as such and also found it quite amusing. Chad’s sneer faltered for a moment before pulling into a scowl.

“What brings you by here, freak?” He repeated the insult, as if trying to make an impact, “I thought I told you to not come by here after school?” His hand reached out to slam against the locker next to the shorter teen’s head with a metallic bang. Thomas jumped at the sudden physical aggression but the “freak” showed no sign of flinching or anything. Thomas found the lack of reaction both strangely brave and sad, as if he was so used to this happening that it didn’t surprise him anymore.

The shorter of the two shrugged, tilting his face away out of Thomas' view, then turned back. He blew a soft huff of air between his lips before cracking an antagonizing grin full of contempt up at Chad.

“‘Cause I can, duh.”

Chad’s eyes narrowed and he let out a low growl, stepping in closer to the other. His free hand, which had been resting on his hip, pulled back and clenched into a fist. Thomas started to walk forward but stopped when he heard a low chuckle, blinking.

“You don’t scare me, _bro_. That stopped a long time ago.”

Thomas chewed on his lower lip, thinking frantically. This kid was going to get himself hurt at this rate. Even if he was used to it, it wasn’t okay. Nodding curtly to steel himself, he stepped forward, making sure his footstep was definitely audible as he came around the corner fully. Chad’s gaze immediately zeroed in on him and he ignored the way his heart rate sped up at the anger present in those ugly eyes. It wasn’t directed at him at the moment but it would be soon and Thomas couldn’t deny that it scared him. However, he wasn’t going to allow whatever was happening to continue. The other teen’s head turned towards him but his eyes were still shadowed and hidden behind dark hair. Thomas could see his lips press into a straight line, as if he was displeased by the junior's unexpected appearance.

“Hey there!” Thomas called out in as friendly a manner as he could, making his way over until he was about five feet away from the two, “What’s up guys?” He could hear the quaver in his voice and cursed mentally at himself. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”

The jock narrowed his gaze a bit more before his mouth stretched into what was probably supposed to be a winning smile, all too-white teeth bared sharply, trying to disarm the guy who’d shown up out of nowhere, “Not at all, me and Virgil here were just having a.. civil talk. Weren’t we?” He turned his gaze back to this Virgil, the threat in his voice clear as a sunshine-y day.

The other teen, Virgil, let out a short amused breath, giving his head a nod, “Of course,” he answered seemingly obediently, his low voice rumbling in Thomas’ chest, before his intent became more clear in his continuation, “Chaddington and I were just discussing me tutoring him for his classes because he needs all the help he can get, isn’t that right?” The lilt in his voice was almost sing-song-y and it took all of Thomas’ self-control not to let out a surprised laugh.

Chad, however, was not amused.

“You callin’ me stupid, freak?” The fake jovial tone was gone entirely, replaced by a dangerous growl. The hand next to Virgil’s head, pressed against the locker, curled into a fist. His other, having never left that position, pulled back again in a threat.

Virgil sighed in annoyance, hidden eyes rolling unbeknownst to Thomas, “No, mashed-peas-for-brains, I’m calling you an absolute moron who can’t get through any of his classes without cheating. You don’t even have an excuse, you just don’t like doing the work and, instead, threaten others into doing it for you. You’re going to end up at a dead-end job after getting a few concussions doing your stupid football thing and end up bored with life by the age of 25.”

Thomas sucked in a breath, stepping forward as Chad brought his fist back fully, driving it through the air in the direction of Virgil’s face. Time seemed to slow down as Thomas slipped between the two in order to take the blow instead. In the next moment, he stumbled as he was shoved aside, Virgil having pulled his hands out of his hoodie pockets to grab Thomas around the waist and push him aside quickly, but strangely gently. The thud of knuckles against cheekbone echoed around the hallway and Virgil staggered back as his head thumped against the lockers, not even letting out noise at the impact. Thomas barely kept himself from tripping over his own feet, catching himself as he pressed against the locker he found himself grabbing in order to keep from falling. The binder was on the floor next to him, having been dropped without a thought during his rescue attempt.

A second of silence passed before Thomas let out a gasp as he realized what had happened and he immediately turned to check on Virgil. His gaze passed over the quickly bruising cheekbone before lifting up to meet stormy grey eyes, framed by thick black lashes. The hood of his jacket had fallen to reveal Virgil's entire face. Black eyeshadow, Thomas assumed, was smeared below those swirling almost-silver eyes, and sharp cheekbones, the left already showing darkening purple bruising, caught Thomas’ attention and he winced sympathetically. His eyes then flicked down over a sharp angular jaw and gay panic took over. He swallowed past the traitorous heart pounding in his throat as his gaze moved back up to meet those stormy eyes which were crackling with ferocity. He almost flinched at the emotion trapped in them before they turned away to glare at Chad. When Virgil spoke, his voice was low and careful.

“Get out of here, Thomas, this isn’t your fight.”

Chad, feeling ignored and insulted that his violence hadn’t had the intended result of fear, pulled his fist back again. This time, however, he turned and aimed at the interloper. Anger pulsed through his veins at this new kid who had dared come between him and his chosen prey. Thomas opened his mouth to reply to Virgil, the question of how the other knew his name on his lips. He hadn’t realized the change in direction until the last second, his eyes widening as he turned to face the fist straight on. In a flash, he was shoved aside again by Virgil, a surprising growl ripping from the shorter teen’s throat as he used his body to move Thomas out of the way, sharp angles and elbows pressing into Thomas’ side but still weirdly gently enough not to shove him into the lockers. Instead of taking the hit again, Virgil curled long, thin fingers around the offending fist before twisting up and to the side in one smooth motion.

A grunt slipped from Chad’s mouth as he was forced into an awkward and painful position, his elbow protesting as it attempted to bend the opposite way that it should. His swamp eyes widened in shock as Virgil fought back for the first time in a long time. Well, not fought, but defended. Not even for himself, but for the new kid.

Virgil twisted further, making Chad let out an embarrassing whimper of pain.

“Fuck off,” the dark teen hissed, shoving the taller, bulkier guy away from himself and Thomas. Chad stumbled back for a moment before growling and pointing the finger of his opposite hand at him.

“Next time you won’t be so lucky, freak!”

With that, he stomped off, nursing his arm against his chest.

A moment passed with Virgil watching the other leave with narrowed eyes, facing away from Thomas, who had pressed a hand against his chest, his heart pounding against his ribs.

“Shit.”

The calm exclamation caught Thomas off-guard and he jumped as Virgil turned towards him. The shorter teen’s eyes flicked over his body, making Thomas flush.

“You good, dude?”

Thomas nodded quickly, lowering his hand to his side to check his side for any bruising or anything. There was a bit of soreness but it was already fading. Virgil nodded in response, letting out a soft breath of relief? His gaze flicked away before meeting Thomas’ again, grimacing as he shrugged slightly.

“Sorry for, like, shoving you. Didn’t want you to get hit, y’know? I’m used to it so I’d rather take it than you.”

Thomas tilted his head slightly, taking a step towards Virgil. His hand lifted of its own accord, fingertips coming up to brush ever so gently across the bruise blossoming on Virgil’s cheekbone. Virgil twitched and immediately backed away, staring down at the floor. Thomas frowned, feeling his chest ache.

“You shouldn’t have done that!” He chastised, leaning down to pick up the previously abandoned binder, resting it against his waist as his hand curled to hold it, “I’d rather neither of us get hit, dude. Next time, just, like, I don’t know. Push me out of the way and get out of the way yourself.”

Virgil stared at Thomas for a moment before he let out a snort of laughter, his hand immediately lifting to hide the small smile that curled his lips as if out of embarrassment. Thomas’ heart jumped and he couldn’t stop the bright smile that pushed itself onto his own face.

“Seriously though! You shouldn’t be used to this kind of stuff!” Thomas exclaimed, leaning back against the locker and holding the binder against his chest to, hopefully, hide the fact that his heart was definitely trying to escape the prison of his ribs, “We should tell a teacher or the principal or something!”

Another snort from Virgil, this one of disbelief. Thomas quirked his brows at the reaction. The dark teen raised his own brow in a sarcastic response.

“You think those fucks don’t know about this shit happening? Please, new kid, you don’t know the half of it.”

Thomas tried to ignore the pang at being called “new kid”. Sure, he had just joined this high school not even a month ago and already had a couple of friends, Joan and Talyn, and had made tentative friendly ties with a few others, but Virgil had known his name, right? He’d said his name earlier. Why was he calling him “new kid” now?

While Thomas was thinking, Virgil had pulled his hood back up over his head, rearranging his bangs to hide his eyes again. His hands had shoved themselves back into his pockets and he’d turned his gaze to stare down the hallway, effectively shutting himself off from the world and from Thomas. He turned back, eyes momentarily meeting Thomas’ own for a moment before looking away again.

“Look, I appreciate you trying to help and all, but don’t bother next time, alright? Don’t need you getting hurt on my watch.”

With that, he stalked off, footsteps nearly silent in the hallway, before he turned a corner and disappeared.

Thomas stood there a moment, face blank before it scrunched up in frustration. Next time, huh? Well. He would just have to make sure to do better next time, rather than being a hindrance and getting Virgil hurt in his stead. Nodding sharply to himself, he held the binder tighter against his chest and followed the same path Virgil had taken, though the other teen had already disappeared.

Next time Thomas would show that he didn’t need to be protected. If Virgil was used to this kind of stuff happening, Thomas would put a stop to it and be the protector for once.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil visits a friend before heading off to work for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd again lmao.

Virgil reached up to press his fingertips gingerly against the now blackening bruise stretching across his jutting cheekbone. Letting out a quiet hiss at the sharp crackle of pain, he let his arm flop back down to his side, pale hand slipping into his hoodie pocket again. He cleared his throat, licking at his dry, slightly-chapped lips, as his eyes flicked up from the sidewalk he was passing over to peer around himself quickly. His feet were silent as he walked, the practice of having spent years making sure to be as quiet as possible causing the smooth movements to come naturally.

Earbuds were pushed into his ears, the low pulse of music filtering into his brain. Guitar, bass, drums, and a melody sung in a low voice were just loud enough to hear and be understood whilst still being low in volume in order to be aware of his surroundings.

He was warm in the sunlight but not hot, as it was in the early days of autumn, the soft worn cotton of his hoodie comfortable against his skin. He grimaced as he tucked his arms tighter against himself, feeling the sharp bones of his ribs and hips against his limbs. The hoodie did well at hiding how emaciated he actually was, though it did nothing to protect him from physical harm. It was, however, an excellent armor of a social kind, his dark persona keeping others from interacting unless they absolutely had to. Minus a few people.

One of those people was Patton Eshmun, a local baker who owned his own tiny shop on the corner of a busy street, where he got plenty of business due to the junction between the shopping and job districts. Virgil stopped across the street from the small building that was tucked up against the others. The bottom floor was the shop, the top was Patton’s apartment.

It was cozy, filled with nick-knacks and whatnot that the silly man had picked up and stored away, personalizing the apartment quickly in his past few years of living there. Virgil had only been up there a couple times before since meeting Patton. The first time he’d used the man’s bathroom to clean himself up after an altercation. He grimaced as he remembered throwing up in the man’s toilet, apologizing to the concerned paternal dude more than a few times. He’d also stained the white porcelain with blood, not all belonging to himself. He’d made sure to clean up after himself afterwards despite Patton’s protesting, not wanting to make the blond deal with his mess. He hadn’t wanted to be a nuisance longer than he’d had to have been.

Waiting until a car passed by, Virgil walked over the asphalt of the street quickly, skipping a bit at the end to reach the opposite sidewalk before reaching out and pulling open the bakery door, the soft ring of a bell filtering into the shop. Stepping into the air-conditioned building, he took in a deep breath, a small smile curling his lips as he inhaled the scent of baked goods - the sweet smell of sugar and the spice of cinnamon along with various fruits and other concoctions entering his sinuses. He made his way over to the counter and leaned against the white painted wood and laminate as he waited patiently. He knew Patton was busiest baking around this time before rush hour and was not in a hurry himself. His shift didn’t start for a bit longer so he had time.

It took only a couple minutes before a blond man, only a few inches taller than himself, walked backwards out of the swinging door leading to the back of the shop where the kitchen was. He had a plain white apron tied around his slightly plump waist, the bow in the back a messy knot that Virgil knew had been tied in a hurry and would be a pain to undo later. The man whistled a sweet tune as he slowly turned, bearing a platter of pastries in his hands. Catching sight of Virgil leaning against the counter, his mouth immediately stretched into a sunny and impossibly bright smile, a faint patch of flour dusting his nose and the bridge of his black framed glasses.

Patton was a slightly shorter-than-average man, though obviously still taller than Virgil, with a mop of blond curls, a cherub-like rounded face, and a generous smattering of freckles splashed over the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks. He was childlike and full of positive energy, almost always bouncing on his feet. He usually wore a light blue polo whilst he worked and a pair of tan slacks. He was paternal as hell and had a never-ending supply of Dad jokes. He had a habit of referring to Virgil as “kiddo” and “son”, which the teen had found annoying at first but slowly warmed up to. It wasn’t like he’d had a heartwarming relationship with his own father figure during his childhood, so it was nice to get some of that father-like affection from someone for once.

“Hey Virgie! How was scho-” Patton cut himself off with a gasp as he caught sight of the now fully-formed bruise taking up half of Virgil’s pale face, “What the heck happened!?” He questioned, clearly distressed, as he quickly placed the platter of pastries on the counter-top, his hands coming up to flutter in front of himself as he felt his little heart beat faster.

Virgil sniffed and reached up to prod at the bruise, biting back a whimper and forcing it into silence as he shrugged, letting his hand fall back to the counter, tapping his short and ragged nails (he had a habit of chewing on them when he was anxious or just thinking a lot, which was most of the time honestly) against the surface, “Nothing big, Pat. Just a little issue after school, no big deal.”

Patton frowned and leaned over the counter, taking Virgil’s chin in his hand and tugging the teen closer, causing him to roll his eyes but give into the gentle touch. He knew better than to argue against Patton’s care. Tilting Virgil’s head this way and that, Patton tutted and released him, clapping his hands together, “Well that’s no good at all! We’re going upstairs right now to put on some bruise cream.”

Virgil groaned before getting cut off by Patton waving a finger in his face.

“Nuh-uh, young man! Upstairs. Now,” He completed the command with his Patton-ted ™ Dad Look ™ and Virgil knew there was no use in arguing. Rolling his eyes again, he shoved his hand back in his pocket and followed Patton upstairs into the man’s apartment.

Looking around the small one-bedroom living space, Virgil continued trailing after Patton. There was more stuff around the place - colorful mismatched furniture, throw rugs and pillows adorning the sofa and armchair facing the small TV in the corner. Framed photos and pictures nearly drowned out the walls, all of friends and family Patton had kept in touch with over the years. Potted plants were abundant, the greenery bringing a freshness into the sunshine-warmed room. Sunlight filtered through the white cotton curtains framing the large window behind the TV and dust motes danced through the air. It was a mess but an organized mess, looking cozy and homely even though it should've looked cluttered.

Heading down the short hallway that lead to both the bathroom and Patton’s bedroom, they reached the first door and Patton lead the way inside. The bathroom smelled recently cleaned but not overwhelmingly so. The scent of lemon and mild bleach was faint. A small bath/shower combo was in the corner, cartoon-y curtains covered in whales and fish and other sea creatures hanging from the white plastic rings.

Patton pointed at the toilet seat that had a matching theme to the shower curtains and Virgil huffed as he sat on the closed lid, leaning back against the tank and closing his eyes as he tapped his foot against the tiled floor. 50 minutes left until his shift started.

“Now let’s see here… Where did I put it last?” Patton muttered to himself, knowing where he usually put the bruise cream but not finding it in its place as he rummaged through the cabinet. He tapped his finger against his chin before letting out an “a-ha!” and rushing out of the room. He’d run into the corner of the small dining table yesterday and had got out the cream to soothe his own developing bruise. He was clumsy, always had been, so he had to keep buying the stuff all the time. It was a life-saver honestly. He'd come across the organic brand before he'd moved into the city and had used nothing else ever since. It was quick working and that's what Patton had needed when..

Shaking that train of thought out of his head, Patton found the tube sitting on the counter in the small kitchen. Snatching it up, he rushed back to the bathroom, finding Virgil still sitting on the toilet seat with an elbow propped up on the sink counter, cradling his jaw in his palm.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft and even, lips slightly parted. Patton watched him for a minute, eyes soft and full of worry, letting the teen doze, before reaching out and gently tapping at Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil jumped and his jaw slipped from his palm, nearly falling forward off of the toilet seat before catching himself. His eyes shot up and he glared at Patton for a second in his state of being startled before letting out a tired sigh, relaxing slowly, but never fully. There was always a bit of tension knotted in the teen’s muscles, as if he were prepared to fight or flight at any moment. A tightly wound spring ready to explode.

“Sorry, Pat.”

Patton smiled softly at him, shaking his head slightly, golden curls bouncing a bit around his rounded face. His eyes were sad behind his thick black rimmed glasses as he turned his gaze to the tube of cream in his hand. Snapping the cap open, he squeezed some out onto his index and middle fingers before turning back to Virgil. Pausing, he cleared his throat.

“You’re gonna have to wipe off that eyeshadow, kiddo. It’s gonna get smeared with the cream if you don’t.”

Virgil sighed again before rolling out some toilet paper and wadding it up. Reaching over, he ran some water in the sink and let the toilet paper get a bit damp before turning the tap off. Wiping under his eyes roughly, ignoring the sharp pain in his cheek, he rid himself of the makeup he’d applied that morning. The blackness of the eyeshadow faded into a softer but still bruised-looking purple, the effects of insomnia and long nights resulting in heavy eyebags. Tossing the soiled toilet paper into the wastebasket next to the toilet, he grunted and tilted his head up to face Patton, though his gaze was off to the side.

“There.”

Chewing on his lower lip for a moment, Patton thought about asking Virgil how much sleep he’d been getting lately but decided against it, knowing it would only cause the teen to close off even more. Leaning in, he gently swiped his fingers across Virgil’s cheekbone, the white cream cool against Virgil’s heated skin. The bruise had swollen a bit and the cream soothed the ache immediately, the sharp sting fading into a dull thud matching his heartbeat as the older man gently worked the medicine into his injury.

Virgil kept his gaze off to the side, though he let his eyes close for a moment to enjoy the soft touch. The memory of the new kid, Thomas, brushing his fingertips even more gently against his cheek sprung into his mind and he twitched, opening his eyes immediately. He frowned as he remembered the concern in those chocolate brown eyes, glittering with golden flecks Virgil remembered, mixed with another emotion. He didn’t know what it was and he didn’t want to know either. It would only confuse things and Virgil did not like dealing with confusing things.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, the teen fiddled with a loose thread in the pocket of his hoodie as Patton finished up. His eyes flicked up to meet the man’s own sweet teal blues momentarily before looking back down.

“Thanks, Pat.”

Patton smiled sweetly at him, patting him on the head and earning a halfhearted glare aimed in his direction, causing the blond to giggle. Virgil reached up to swipe lightly at his hand and Patton drew back, leaning back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“No prob, Bob! You know I’m here to help however I can! After all you’ve done to help me? This is the least I could do!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and stood, pushing against the sink counter to keep his balance as he moved onto his feet. He looked up at Patton, cursing mentally at his short height - the result of malnutrition during childhood and other stuff.

“I gotta start walking to work now, Pat. Thanks again, though.”

Patton patted the teen on the shoulder gently as they turned to leave his apartment, “I wish I could give you a ride, Virgie! It must be tiring walking so much every day,” he pouted as they reentered the bakery section of the building. Virgil shrugged and turned to quirk his lips into a small smirk at the man.

“Exercise is good for the soul or some shit.”

“Language!” Patton admonished, earning a chuckle from Virgil.

“Sorry, Pat.”

With that, Virgil brought two fingers up to his temple in a salute before ducking out of the bakery, the ding of the bell above the door echoing after his exit. Patton stood there a moment, lips twisting in concern, before bringing his hands up to rest on his hips.

“Wish he would let me help more..”

Patton sighed and let his hands fall back down, brushing his fingertips across the apron adorning his front before turning and heading back into the kitchen to bake more, this time pouring his stress into the dough as he mixed it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far. Constructive criticism and whatnot is welcome and stuff.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daydreaming and super late nights.

Thomas arrived home a little later than he usually did due to having stayed behind at school to run some papers from one teacher to another. Also, the whole thing in the hallway with Chad and Virgil.

The seventeen year old sighed as he reached up and ran a hand through his plain brown hair before flopping face down onto his bed with a grunt. His legs hung over the edge of the mattress uncomfortably and he turned onto his back to stare up at his ceiling, squinting slightly in the light from his fan. Glow in the dark stars were placed haphazardly across the surface, no thought having gone into the arrangement and currently a faded yellow-green. Thomas’ hand splayed across his chest where he could feel his heartbeat speed up again as he remembered what had happened.

“What the heck...” He muttered to himself, lips pulling into a slight frown. Virgil… Had protected him. For some reason. He’d taken a freaking punch to the face and had also banged his head against the locker behind him from the force. However, he hadn’t even reacted in pain at all, even though Thomas could tell that the hit was going to leave a nasty bruise. Chad hadn’t pulled back at all.

Thomas chewed on his lower lip as he recounted Virgil’s actions. The other teen, who was like, at least five inches shorter than him, had been stronger than he’d expected. He’d managed to push Thomas out of the way of danger _twice_ and had even done so as gently as he could so as to not hurt him. Thomas let the fingertips of his other hand trail up over his side where Virgil had collided with him. A tingle followed the trail and he couldn’t help the shiver that ran up his spine.

_“Get out of here, Thomas, this isn’t your fight.”_

The words echoed in Thomas’ head, the low, slightly gravelly voice remembered perfectly. It had been calm but with a barely hidden hint of.. something else. The storm swirling in those deep grey eyes had been anything but calm. As if Virgil had been pissed about Chad daring to turn his violence towards Thomas. Or maybe Virgil had been angry at him? For intervening?

Thomas blew air between his lips before sighing, his lungs aching at the sudden expulsion of air before he breathed in again. Maybe he’d messed up by trying to come to the rescue? He’d never been the type to get into fights. At his previous school, he’d been picked on by a couple of jerks, but he’d never experienced anything like this there. It was a smaller city, not known for violent crimes or anything. It had been more quiet. He’d been a member of the theater and hadn’t been popular but hadn’t been unpopular either. He expected the same here honestly.

Making friends with Joan and Talyn had been a surprise to him, the two having easily convinced him to join the school’s theater club. Joan was a genius who wrote their own plays and musicals, having the skills to make others laugh easily as well as the mischievous tendency to bring in the angst sneakily enough to catch people off-guard and make them cry.

Talyn was a makeup artist and also worked in the costuming department. They were fantastic at both regular and special effects makeup. They sported their own style of a multitude of colors mixed with goth clothing - their hair was a bright orange at the moment and they painted big fat fake freckles on their face to come across as a cartoon-y caricature of a ginger. It was absolutely adorable.

Joan and Talyn obviously liked each other but apparently neither had confessed or anything. Thomas found it endearing but also a little annoying to have to deal with their blatant flirting whilst not even dating or anything. Joan also had a habit of playfully flirting with Thomas, which made the latter sputter half the time and laugh at their shenanigans the rest of the time.

Thomas hoped they’d be biffles for a long time, if not forever.

He also hoped he’d be able to talk to Virgil again soon.

_“Thomas…”_

Virgil’s voice echoed in his mind again and he couldn’t help the tiny smile that curled his lips as he remembered the other speaking his name. Virgil had known him by name, even though he hadn’t been at the school for even a month. How did he know Thomas’ name? He wasn’t a junior, that was for sure. Thomas would’ve noticed him sooner if he was. Maybe he was a sophomore? He was pretty short after all…

Humming to himself, Thomas pushed himself up to sit against his headboard, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Virgil didn’t seem like he was only 15 or 16 though. He seemed.. Much more mature? Maybe not mature, Thomas retracted, as he remembered the other’s sarcastic remarks and amused retaliation to Chad’s taunting. Maybe he just had an older soul in a younger body? Thomas rolled his eyes at his own thoughts, a small laugh slipping from his mouth.

Turning, he let his feet fall to the floor beside the bed, resting back on his hands as he peered out of the window. Even though it was still relatively early in autumn, the sun was already setting. Long shadows pulled from trees and the other houses in the neighborhood. Thomas let his eyes turn to the sky, squinting slightly in the soft rays of light, the barely-there outline of the moon slowly appearing behind a cloud.

“Virgil.”

Thomas tasted the name on his tongue as he spoke it quietly into his room. It was a unique name, that was for sure. He thought it sounded familiar for some reason and quickly pushed himself up onto his feet, striding over to his desk and tugging his laptop to himself. Flipping it open, he pressed the power button and waited impatiently as it booted up. Signing in, he opened the web browser and entered a query into the search bar.

_Virgil name meaning and origin._

Tapping his fingertips against the wood of the desk, he clicked his tongue as he watched the search results pop up. Scrolling down a couple, he clicked on one. Reading through the short description, he twisted his lips.

Apparently it was the name of a Roman poet, though spelled slightly differently. That sounded more familiar. He’d probably learned about that sometime in school.

It was also seemingly of Latin origin, the official meaning unknown but the hypothesized translation was…

“Vigil. Vigilance. Protector.”

Thomas repeated those words quietly to himself, the twist in his lips relaxing into another smile.

“How.. Fitting.”

He gave his head a shake as he remembered his promise to himself from earlier. Sure, Virgil seemed to be protective, but Thomas was determined to do his best to not need being protected next time. Next time? He hoped there wasn’t a next time for something like this, but he wasn’t blindly optimistic. He knew more was going to happen, especially after Chad had said something about Virgil paying for his retaliation or regretting it or something. Honestly, Chad wasn’t really important enough for Thomas to remember exactly what he’d said, but he got the gist of it.

Sighing, Thomas stretched over to his bed from his position sitting in his desk chair, nearly tumbling to the floor as he slapped his palm against the surface of his desk to keep his balance. He grabbed at his backpack from where it was perched on the edge of his bed and tugged it towards himself, swinging it up into his lap and unzipping it. Homework, ugh.

Time passed as he tried his best to concentrate on his math paper, scribbling down answers and then scratching them out as he redid them on his calculator before writing down what he hoped the actual correct answer was. Thoughts of the altercation from earlier as well as just Virgil himself kept distracting him and it was kind of frustrating, though Thomas couldn’t keep himself from letting out a dreamy sigh as he ended up leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his jaw on his palm, twirling his pencil in his fingers as his daydreaming started to take over.

A sudden knock on his bedroom door had the teen jumping and letting out an undignified squawk in surprise, his pencil slipping from his fingers and clattering onto his desk. His mom, having not waited for an answer, peered into his room and raised a brow at his reaction. Thomas bared his teeth in an embarrassed grin and she laughed softly.

“Catch you off guard there?”

Thomas laughed as well, leaning back in his desk chair and shrugging, “Maybe a bit. What’s up, mom?”

The older woman shook her head slightly and gestured over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Thomas nodded - had three hours passed already? It hadn’t seemed that long since he’d gotten home but apparently that’s what happened when one got lost in their head - and pushed himself onto his feet, striding over to his mother and pecking her on the cheek. She smiled and patted at him lovingly before turning to make her way back to the dining room, Thomas following after flicking off his bedroom light. The stars pasted to his ceiling began glowing softly in the sudden darkness.

Dinner passed quickly as well, Thomas barely paying attention to what he was eating. He found himself being reprimanded by his mom to get his elbow off the table more than a couple times, his brain still caught up in daydreams of the darker teen. His thoughts had gone on their own adventure, with him barely clinging on to any semblance of reality.

Virgil as a knight in black armor, clashing with Chaddington the uhh… Some kind of evil. Honestly, Thomas’ mind wasn’t all that bothered with imagining the bully as anything other than some vague bad guy. However, in his mind adventure, Thomas watched as he came to the dark knight’s rescue, bearing a sword and taking the other two by surprise because who would suspect the random peasant coming in and saving the day?

_Thomas swooped in and brought the tip of his shining weapon to Chad’s throat, the sharp edge barely grazing the bad guy’s skin. Virgil watched on from where he’d fallen, cradling a wounded arm against his chest, grey eyes wide in surprise._

_“You’ve been defeated, Chaddington!” Thomas proclaimed bravely, keeping his sword at the other’s neck, “Surrender now and you will be treated to a fair and just trial!”_

Thomas could hear the thoughts at the back of his head snicker at his ridiculous imaginings but he ignored them, watching the scene continue to play out in his mind palace theater.

_Chaddington, fear in his eyes, quickly surrendered and was immediately bound by Thomas and tied up to a tree to wait for morning to be escorted back to the kingdom in order to be put on trial for his crimes, whatever they were. When he finished, Thomas walked over to Virgil, who had stood and was leaning against a nearby tree, still nursing his arm._

_“Are you alright?” Thomas asked as he stepped forward, a soft smile on his lips. He’d sheathed his sword and approached the knight carefully._

_Virgil nodded and returned the smile, “Yes, thanks to you.”_

_Thomas shook his head and raised a hand to wave off the compliment, “No thanks needed, I did what any decent person should do.”_

_The knight laughed quietly and straightened his back, pushing himself away from the tree and stepping closer to Thomas, a hand pressed against the wound on his arm. Thomas noticed the blood seeping from beneath the other’s palm and quickly pulled a length of fabric from his pocket._

_“Here,” he spoke gently, stepping even closer to Virgil and holding out his hands, “let me bandage your wound for you.”_

_Virgil held out his arm without speaking, exposing the deep cut that ran along his forearm. Thomas grimaced sympathetically and began to gently wind the cloth around the shorter teen’s arm. _

_It took a moment for him to realize how close they actually were, Virgil’s soft breathing almost silent as the knight kept his gaze up towards the darkening sky over Thomas’ shoulder. The sound of crickets and a gentle breeze rustling the leaves above them was peaceful. Thomas chewed on his lower lip as he finished up, tying the cloth ends together and tucking them in. Leaning back, he startled as he met those storm-cloud eyes and a flush rose in his cheeks. Virgil’s lips curled into a gentle smirk. Thomas’ heart beat faster._

_They leaned in slowly, Thomas lowering his face the few inches it would take to meet the other’s height as his arms slipped around Virgil's waist. Virgil pressed into his chest, hands going to clutch at Thomas' shirt._

_They were an inch or so apart, Virgil’s lips so tantalizingly close that his breaths brushing against Thomas’ mouth caused shivers to run up his spine._

_Just.. a little further..._

Thomas jumped, letting out a squawk nearly identical to the one from earlier as a crash of dinnerware struck the air. His father stared at him in shocked concern as the teenager blinked rapidly to bring himself back to reality. His plate had slipped from the table and onto the floor during his daydreaming when his elbow had found itself where it wasn’t supposed to be again, knocking it off. It had been empty, thank goodness, and plastic as well so there were no broken pieces. His mother would’ve been angry as heck if that had been the case.

“You alright, son?” His father questioned him, the older man standing from his own seat at the dinner table. Thomas nodded and cleared his throat, leaning down to grab up the plate on the floor and rising up quickly enough to get light-headed.

“Yeah, dad, just, y’know, lost in thought and stuff!”

Stumbling as he stood, still a little dizzy, Thomas nearly tripped over his own feet as he strode over to the sink, carefully placing the plate into hot soapy water. Turning, he smiled at his father and mother, who were both staring at him with bewildered expressions on their faces.

“Thanks for dinner, mom! It was great as always!” Thomas waved a hand over his shoulder as he practically ran back upstairs to his bedroom, throwing his door shut behind him.

Both parents turned their gazes to each other before shaking their heads in amusement. Their son was as dramatic and ridiculous as ever. It seemed that the cross-country move hadn’t bothered him too much, thankfully.

Flopping onto his bed, Thomas brought his hands up to his face to hide from the world, squeezing his eyes shut as well. The flush in his cheeks burned and he let out a sigh.

_‘Thomas Sanders, you are an absolute idiot.’_

\---

Virgil groaned as he finally entered his small apartment, the front door squeaking on its hinges as he opened and shut it, making sure to lock the knob and three other locks before walking slowly into the main room. His legs and feet ached from walking all day and standing for eight hours straight plus making the trek up three flights of stairs. Collapsing onto his sofa, the cushions sagging and not the most comfortable, the teen let his head tilt back, staring up at the stained ceiling. A spiderweb glistened in the corner and he twitched his lips. It seemed his friend was quickly making a home.

He sighed, reaching up to rub his fists into his eye sockets, hissing as he made contact with his cheek. Oh yeah. He’d forgotten about that. Grunting, he let his arms fall, one hanging off the edge of the couch and the other laying across his chest.

Work had sucked, but what else was new? The only highlight was sharing his shift with Remy, a sarcastic and very gay co-worker who partied hard and always walked in with the biggest Starbucks cup available in hand. He called everyone "gurl", no matter their gender, as well as "babe". He flirted as naturally as he breathed and it had made Virgil uncomfortable at first but he'd grown used to it, now finding it amusing when Remy turned onto any newcomers. They had worked together in the back, Virgil’s shitty manager not wanting his bruised face to scare off customers. Flipping burgers and getting popped by hot fry oil was the gig, but Remy had managed to make Virgil chuckle a few times with his story of another one night stand with some random hottie he’d met at a club the night before.

Remy had been concerned about Virgil’s face but the latter had evaded his questions about what had happened by coming up with some dumb story about running into the corner of a wall or tripping or something. Honestly, he couldn’t remember what exact bullshit excuse he’d come up with, but Remy had backed off so it was whatever.

Lifting his tired eyes up to the digital clock hung on the wall, Virgil groaned again as he realized that 30 minutes had passed since he’d gotten home. Three and a half hours left.

Pushing himself onto his aching feet, Virgil dragged himself over to his mattress pressed into the opposite corner of the couch. Letting his backpack with his regular clothes fall to the floor, he pulled off his work clothes, dropping them into a little plastic laundry basket next to the bathroom door. Grabbing up a shirt from the floor, he tugged it on, not bothering with any bottoms as it was still warm enough to sleep in just briefs.

Falling onto his too-firm mattress, Virgil curled onto his side. He rubbed his non-bruised cheek against his thin pillow, closing his eyes and hoping against hope that he’d get at least some measure of sleep.

The image of chocolate brown eyes glittering with gold kept him company until the alarm on his phone went off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch time with Thomas and friends as well as an unexpected encounter in the library. More gay panic. The terrifying and thrilling hope of what ifs and maybes.

The first half of the next school day passes quickly, with Thomas barely paying attention to his classes. He’d woken up at his usual time, 6:30 am, as he usually waited until the last minute to get ready before eating a quick breakfast, kissing his mom bye, and then driving to school in his maroon 2013 Chevy Malibu, gifted to him by his parents for his 16th birthday last year.

He handed in his math homework. He listened to his History teacher drone on about something he didn’t even remember. He paid more attention in Chemistry as it was actually kind of interesting, though he still doodled little yin yangs and childish houses in the margins of his notebook. He stretched and exercised in P.E., running a few laps before putting in the minimum effort required to play a little basketball - very badly, mind you.

Then came lunch. Finally.

Flopping down in his usual spot at one of the long tables in the cafeteria, near the entrance but still a couple rows in, he let out a huff as he settled his backpack onto the bench next to him. His eyes flicked up as he heard laughter approaching and a smile curled his lips as he saw Joan and Talyn making their way over, both holding lunch bags. They were both vegan so it was impossible for them to eat any of the cafeteria’s food other than the sad salad bowls that lined the mostly ignored bar and they were both adamant about definitely not doing that. It was awesome that the three of them got to have the same lunch period, honestly. He didn’t really have any other friends in his classes yet so it was nice to get to spend time with them other than when they went to the theater room to hang out.

“Hey Darude Sanderstorm!” Joan quipped as they settled themselves across from him, Talyn joining in a more subdued manner, though a sweet smile graced their face. Thomas watched as the latter’s eyes followed Joan for a moment longer than necessary before they flicked over to catch Thomas’ gaze. A subtle blush colored their cheeks beneath the fake freckles and Thomas couldn’t help the playful grin and slight wiggle of his eyebrows in their direction. They rolled their eyes, reaching up to run their thin fingers through their brightly dyed hair.

“Hey Thomas,” Talyn greeted shortly, quickly unzipping their lunch bag and bringing out a bottle of some kind of juice. Probably something they’d concocted themselves.

“Hey guys,” Thomas took a sip of his own bottled drink, a green tea from the vending machine, “How’re you?”

Joan immediately launched into a tale of how their Latin teacher was a total idiot - something about wrong translations or something. It totally didn't make him think of a certain someone, not at all. Thomas found himself laughing easily between bites of food, nearly choking at one point when Joan made an absolutely fantastic and long-winded pun.

Talyn also had a story about how they’d started a new project in Art, each student being given the opportunity to do whatever they wanted. Of course, they’d decided on doing a fashion piece. It was going to have a twist or something but Talyn proclaimed that it was a secret and wanted it to be a surprise. It was going to be big though, apparently. Thomas was looking forward to the reveal.

“What’s up with you, Thomathy?”

Thomas blinked at the question, humming before resting his jaw in his palm, elbow perched on the table as he poked absentmindedly at his leftovers, full now and not planning on eating more. He thought for a moment, deciding he didn’t have anything interesting to say about his classes, before settling on asking a question himself instead of answering.

“Do either of you know a Virgil?”

Both Joan and Talyn raised an eyebrow, looking at each other for a moment before turning back to Thomas.

“Uh, yeah,” Joan began, “There’s a Virgil Moore in theater actually.”

“And I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy in my Art class,” Talyn finished, taking a bite of their sandwich.

Thomas sat up straighter and his eyes widened, “Is he this, like, short, dark, emo-y guy?”

Joan and Talyn nodded in unison, confusion written on their faces along with a mix of concern or something Thomas guessed.

“Yeah, but, like, I don’t know anything about him,” Talyn continued, “He’s always quiet and doing his own thing. He’s also a little scary, y’know? Like, not in a normal teenage way but in a.. Different way,” they finished quietly. They immediately perked up though, a small smile on their lips, “But he’s, like, a super awesome writer and artist, honestly! I’ve only read a couple of short things he’s done but they’re really good and I’ve seen a few of his paintings and they’re, like, amazing.”

Joan nodded and tapped their fingers against the table, “He’s actually a techie in theater. Always in the shadows and slinking around like a living shadow cat or some shit. Probably why you don’t remember seeing him. He was there when you showed up the first time.”

Thomas twisted his lips, trying to remember the first day he’d shown up for theater club. Joan and Talyn had given him a tour, leading him around the backstage and through the prop and costume rooms, dressing rooms, and so on. He thought he remembered a darkly dressed person slipping through the corner of his vision but when he tried to focus on it, it faded away.

“Huh,” He clicked his tongue, “Could’ve been how he knew my name, maybe?”

“What do you mean?” Joan questioned, tugging the long sleeves of their jumper down over their wrists absentmindedly.

“Well…”

Thomas recounted what had happened yesterday, probably giving more detail to Virgil than he should’ve honestly, but his friends paid rapt attention. Their faces went through stages of emotions - surprise, anger, confusion, etc.

When he finished, Thomas met each of their gazes almost sheepishly.

“Jeez dude,” Joan breathed, “You’re so fucking lucky! Chad is, like, a hulk with a hundred times the anger issues of the actual Hulk.”

Waving their hand through the air, Talyn nodded, “Yeah! Like, Chad’s done some really messed up stuff to other students before. He gets away with it ‘cause he’s the superintendent's son.”

Scrunching up his nose, Thomas remembered what Virgil had said about the staff knowing about what was going on. That was so unfair! Chad was a huge jerk and got away with it just because he was some big shot’s kid?

“You’d think that Chad would find something better to do than pick on someone younger and smaller than him,” Thomas frowned, pushing his lunch tray away from himself.

“You talking about yourself?” Joan asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“No, I mean Virgil!”

Joan laughed at Thomas’ reply, which only served to bewilder him. Had he said something weird?

“Dude,” Joan finally managed to speak through their laughter, leaning back a bit and letting their palms slap against the surface of the table, “Virgil is, like, nineteen _and_ a senior.”

“What?!”

Both Joan and Talyn were laughing this time at Thomas’ shocked exclamation.

Nineteen!? Virgil was two years older than him? What the heck?

“B-But he’s so small and stuff!”

“Yeah,” Talyn rolled their eyes, gesturing to themselves, “And I look like a dang twelve year old. You should know better than to assume things based on appearance.”

Thomas huffed and let his forehead fall to the surface of the table with a dull thud. Heck. Virgil, the tiny emo boy who was five inches or so shorter than himself and as thin as a stick, was nine-freaking-teen.

Suddenly, the bell signaling the end of lunch rang and the cafeteria was filled with the sounds of students exiting the premises. Sighing, Thomas grabbed up his backpack, looping his arms through the straps. Following Joan and Talyn, he dumped his trash into the bin and stacked his tray on the pile gathering on top. He walked with his friends down the hallway a bit before they parted ways, saying goodbyes, as they headed towards their next classes.

* * *

Clicking his tongue as he made his way through the rows of bookshelves, Thomas let his eyes graze over the titles of fiction books. His current class, English, had traveled to the library to find books to do short reports on, each student having been given the liberty to pick their own subject as long as it was appropriate. Thomas had already picked out his topic and had written up an outline of what his report was going to be, so now he was spending the last part of class seeing if there were any interesting books he could check out.

He was reaching the end of the room where the books grew dustier, not having been visited in awhile it seemed. Running his fingertip over a few stiff covers, he left a slightly cleaner trail behind him as he hummed quietly to himself.

When he’d gotten near the end of the last row, he blinked as he heard a small noise coming from behind the shelf. It sounded like a snore maybe? Walking around the end of the shelf, Thomas' eyes widened as he came across something he definitely hadn't expected.

Virgil, curled up on a tiny love seat situated under the stairs leading up to the second story of the library and clearly asleep. His arms were drawn up to his chest, hands fisted loosely and tucked under his chin. His backpack was on the floor below him, laying on its side, as if it had fallen from his grip during his slumber. His lips were parted slightly, the source of soft snores apparently as another slipped free. His hood had fallen from his face and his dark mussed bangs were swept away from his face. The eyeshadow he’d sported yesterday was there again, darker than before and a little messy, as if he’d been in a hurry to get it on.

The ugly bruise spanning half his face was very obvious against his pale skin.

Thomas grimaced as he remembered how Virgil had gotten the injury. Stepping forward, he squatted down beside the other, taking in the sight. Virgil’s brows were slightly scrunched, as if he were having a bad dream or something, and Thomas had the urge to reach out and smooth his thumb over the skin there to try and remove the bad thoughts.

Instead, he repeated what he’d done before and had been interrupted in doing. Bringing his fingertips up to Virgil’s face, Thomas hesitated before, as gently as he possibly could, he brushed them over his cheek. He could feel the heat radiating from the swollen skin and he winced sympathetically. He did not expect Virgil to let out a soft noise, almost like a kitten mewl, as the other teen leaned into the touch in his sleep, as if seeking out more.

Snatching his fingers back, Thomas swallowed hard as he watched Virgil’s face scrunch up in disappointment? His own face burned as he slowly brought his fingertips back to Virgil’s cheekbone, trailing them ever so lightly over his skin again, over the protruding bone, the hollow of his cheek, to the curve of his jaw. Virgil reacted the same as before, letting out a soft breath and nearly inaudible noise as he tilted his face towards the touch.

Finding himself captivated by Virgil’s reaction, Thomas continued brushing his fingertips over Virgil’s jaw to his chin, then back up to the slight hollow beneath his ear. A shiver wracked Virgil’s body and he let out a subdued huff. Thomas only had a second to yank his hand back and push himself straight up to a standing position again, nearly toppling over, as Virgil’s thunderstorm eyes blinked open sleepily, those thick black eyelashes fluttering prettily.

“W-What..?” Virgil yawned, reaching up to rub his fist into his eye socket, the uninjured one, as he peered confusedly up at Thomas. The eyeshadow beneath his eye smeared a bit and Thomas could see a more natural purple-ish color beneath the makeup. He didn't have time to contemplate whatever that was as he licked at his lips awkwardly, inwardly geeking out at how cute Virgil was at the moment. He opened his mouth to speak but was immediately interrupted.

“What the fuck?” Virgil’s voice, a growl more than a whisper now, was deeper than normal from having just been woken up. Thomas would forever deny that the teen's voice had reverberated in his chest and made him shiver, his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushing pink, which he prayed to God would fade fast enough for the other to not notice. Virgil sat up quickly, blinking the sleep from his eyes impatiently. A scowl found itself on his face and he glared up at Thomas defensively, not liking that he was discovered in such a vulnerable state.

_'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,'_ was Virgil's mantra at the moment as he glowered up at the boy who had woken him, his heart pounding in his chest, _'Why the fuck is he here? What is he doing back here? No one comes to this part of the library!'_

He could feel himself start to panic, his breathing quickening, and he raised his hand to press his palm against his chest. Mentally counting to four, he breathed in. He held it for a count of seven and then breathed out slowly for a count of eight. Repeating this a couple times helped and he could feel his mind calm, his carefully hidden frantic breathing slowing to a more normal pace. His heart, however, continued to thud heavily against his ribs for an entirely different reason. That reason being the boy standing a few feet away from him with a panicked expression of his own on his entirely too-pretty-to-be-fair face.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you!” Thomas stammered the apology, holding his hands out in a, hopefully, placating manner, “I just found you here and I was going to leave you alone to sleep but uh..” He couldn’t tell Virgil that he’d been freaking _petting_ him in his sleep like some creepy weirdo!

“Uh.. I guess I bumped into a shelf and that woke you up?” He finished lamely, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, plastering a sheepish smile on his face as he peered at Virgil.

The other boy squinted at Thomas suspiciously for what seemed like an entire era, before letting out a frustrated sigh, eyes closing as he let his head fall back to thump against the wall behind him. Thomas winced at the same time Virgil did as the older teen managed to find the sore spot on his skull from where he’d knocked it into the locker yesterday. Reaching up, he rubbed against the small knot, grunting, as he used his other hand to pull his phone out of his hoodie pocket. He let out a groan as he saw the time.

“Fifteen fucking more minutes, dude,” Virgil practically whined, raising his cracked phone screen up to show it to Thomas, pointing indignantly at the numbers stating that it was, in fact, fifteen minutes until the bell would ring, “You couldn’t let me sleep for fifteen fucking more minutes?”

Thomas apologized again with his whole entire heart as Virgil stretched, joints popping loudly, the older teen having put his phone back in his pocket.

God, Thomas was making a whole freaking mess of this, wasn’t he? First he was a creep and then he woke Virgil up and now he was grumpy and was acting like he desperately needed as much sleep as he could get and Thomas had ruined it and -

“Dude - calm down, seriously. You’re giving me a headache.”

Thomas immediately shut up in the middle of his rambling and Virgil looked up at him, an indecipherable expression on his face. Suddenly, he scooted over to one side of the love seat and patted at the spot next to him, kicking his backpack out of the way. Thomas was confused for a moment before Virgil rolled his eyes, patting at the seat again impatiently. Letting out a gasp, Thomas jumped over and sank down next to him, chewing on his lower lip.

The love seat as very small and they were almost touching, their legs and shoulders mere inches apart. Thomas tried to not focus on this but it was impossible.

“You’re the new kid from yesterday, right?”

Virgil’s voice broke his stupor and Thomas flicked his gaze up to look at the other’s face (oh God Virgil has the faintest of freckles which was too freaking cute). Virgil’s own eyes were carefully trained on the bookshelves in front of them.

“Uh, y-yeah…” Thomas answered after a pause, clearing his throat as his voice broke embarrassingly. Virgil snorted, finally turning to look at him.

Thomas was going to die from how freaking gay he was, honestly.

So was Virgil.

A moment passed and Virgil managed to clear his throat more casually, finally breaking the tension as he flicked his gaze away. Thomas let out a small breath of relief, resisting the urge to press his palm against his chest where his heart was pounding. He was sure it was loud enough to be obvious but Virgil hadn’t reacted to it so apparently not.

Virgil was too busy battling his own heart to notice honestly.

“So, new kid -”

“Thomas!”

Virgil blinked at the outburst and Thomas immediately flushed, ducking his head down and reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously.

“What?”

“My name.. It’s Thomas.”

_You already know that though, don’t you?_

A small smile curled Virgil’s lips before disappearing immediately and Thomas swallowed hard.

“Well, yeah, I knew that. Just didn’t think it’d be, y’know, appropriate or whatever.”

Gathering his courage, Thomas raised his face and met Virgil’s gaze with a raised brow, his lips twitching, “Not appropriate?”

Virgil shrugged, looking away and tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands absentmindedly, “Yeah, we don’t even really know each other.”

“But you said my name yesterday?”

Furrowing his brows in confusion, Virgil met Thomas' gaze again and frowned slightly.

“I did?”

Thomas nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Yeah, you said ‘Get out of here, Thomas, this isn’t your fight’.”

Thomas could've sworn he saw a blush color Virgil’s cheeks - well, the cheek that wasn’t covered in that ugly bruise that was totally Thomas' fault - before the other teen cleared his throat and looked away to stare down at his own hands in his lap, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. Thomas tried to convince himself that he wasn’t disappointed to have those eyes leave his own.

He failed.

“Ah..” Virgil reached up to rub at the back of his neck out of embarrassment, “Guess I kinda screwed that up, huh?”

“Screwed what up?”

Virgil scrunched up his face.

“Y’know, I almost got you hurt and stuff...”

Thomas reached out and placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, feeling the teen jump beneath his touch and immediately removing his hand to let it settle back on his own lap awkwardly.

“Dude, you protected me! You took a freaking punch to the face from Chad Ashington! You pushed me out of the way and I'm not even sore. You have..”

Thomas waved his hand carefully in the direction of Virgil’s face.

“That.”

He finished shortly, frowning.

Virgil rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Seriously, Thomas, don’t worry about it. I’m used to this kind of stuff.”

Huffing, Thomas turned in his seat to face Virgil. He was frowning but there was concern in his eyes and Virgil had to force himself not to look away. Guilt started to tug at the corners of his mind and he tried to take a subtle deep breath to calm himself.

They were so close. Virgil could feel the warmth radiating off of the other teen. He almost wanted to lean into it, but pushed the urge away. He wasn’t allowed that kind of comfort. He didn't deserve it.

“Virgil.”

He twitched, flicking his gaze away from Thomas’ before looking back. The emotion in Thomas’ eyes had softened from strict to impossibly soft and kind and it made Virgil’s chest ache.

He didn't deserve to have anyone look at him like that, especially not Thomas - someone who had almost gotten hurt because of him.

It was the same fucking story every time. It was always his fault. He knew that.

So why was Thomas looking at him like he wanted to save him?

“Virgil,” Thomas repeated quietly, reaching out slowly to give Virgil time to pull away before placing his hand lightly on the other’s knee. It twitched but Virgil didn’t object, so Thomas kept his hand there, “You shouldn’t be used to this.”

His voice was so soft and so kind and so warm and so fucking full of sympathy. It made Virgil want to cry, but he refused. He hadn't cried in front of anyone in a long time and it wasn't going to happen now just because someone was pretending to be nice. He wanted to roll his eyes, scoff, tell this random new kid to not waste his time.

But…

The bell rang, cutting through the air sharply and making the two boys jump. Thomas’ hand left Virgil’s knee and the older teen could still feel the burning touch through his jeans. Instead of lingering on that feeling, Virgil immediately pushed himself up onto his feet, yanking his backpack up and over his shoulder.

“See ya,” Virgil held two fingers up to his temple in a salute and turned to walk off. However, he was halted when Thomas grasped at the crook of his elbow gently. Virgil could've pulled away easily, could've ignored the stupid tentative hope in his heart, could've kept himself closed off like he always did, like he always should. However, he found himself turning to face Thomas with a raised eyebrow.

“You wanna.. I don’t know. Hang out? Sometime?” Thomas asked hesitantly, unsure if he was being too forward or too awkward or too weird or..

Virgil stared at him for a moment, his mind racing with thought after thought of what if what if _what if_, before trying to shrug as nonchalantly as possible.

“Sure, whatever.”

The brightest, most beautiful smile spread across Thomas’ face and Virgil could have sworn his heart actually stopped.

* * *

Later, Virgil was staring down at the phone number written on the back of his hand in blue ink, convinced that his heart was trying to launch itself out of his mouth. Apparently Thomas and Virgil had forgotten that it was twenty-freaking-nineteen and they both had cellphones and could just, y'know, add each other to their contact lists because they'd both written their numbers on the back of each other's hand like a couple of dorks from the 90's. The teacher’s voice was reminiscent of the adults from that Peanuts cartoon in the background and Virgil would've sworn that a meteor could crash through the ceiling and he still wouldn’t have been broken out of his daze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome, as always.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New meant different and different usually meant bad when it came to him.

Thomas was the first to send a message after the last bell rang. He spent a few minutes debating on what to say while he waited for the school parking lot to empty so he didn’t have to worry about being hit by or running into the students leaving via foot or vehicle. Some of them were just crazy when it came to crossing paths and/or using their automobiles to vacate the school grounds as quickly as possible, especially since they had their weekend in front of them.

He tapped the fingers of his right hand against the steering wheel as he stared at the currently empty text box, clicking his tongue before he began to type. He stared at the message for a moment before quickly pressing the send button so he couldn't chicken out.

> **Message sent to (1+ [insert random phone number here]):**
> 
> Hey it’s Thomas! Just messaging to make sure I got the right number, this is Virgil right?

Looking up, Thomas watched as the last half of the student populace trickled into a few randoms walking around. It didn’t take long until his phone buzzed with a notification for a new message.

> **Message received from (1+ [another random phone number]):**
> 
> Yeah sup?

Grinning, Thomas quickly added the confirmed number to his contact list, wondering for a moment what he should set Virgil’s name to before messaging back.

> **Message sent to Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Cool! When can we hang out?

He chewed on his lip as he hit send, feeling a little awkward and hoping he didn’t come across as too eager or anything. He probably did. He realized that Virgil might be weirded out if he appeared too excited about it but it was too late to take it back now. It took a moment before Virgil replied.

> **Message received from Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Can’t tonight, working. Tomorrow good? It’s my off day. 

> **Message received from Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Night

> **Message received from Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Whatever

Thomas laughed softly to himself before his fingertips danced over his phone’s keyboard. 

> **Message sent to Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Yeah, that works. What time and where?

Thomas had spent most of the month before joining the new high school not really looking around the bigger city his family had moved to, kind of intimidated by the more heavily populated area, so he didn’t really know the Good Spots ™ to hang out at or anything honestly. 

> **Message received from Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Uh fuck how about we meet at Patterson Park and figure it out? Idk what you like dude.

Another laugh from Thomas, this one a little louder as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. That was true. They didn’t know anything about each other really except that they were both in Theater. Thomas knew Virgil was in Art and was apparently a great writer and whatnot, but otherwise? Not much. Besides the whole “protective” thing Virgil had going on as well.

> **Message sent to Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Sounds awesome! 3 pm good for you, buddy?

He scrunched up his nose as soon as he sent the message. Buddy? Virgil was going to think he was a total dork. Not that Thomas wasn’t. A total dork, that was. Because he was. It was obvious. He was a dorky geek who enjoyed musicals and Disney and dancing and singing and acting and holy smokes he and Virgil couldn’t be more opposite could they? He couldn’t see Virgil enjoying any of those, even if he was in Theater since he was a techie and didn’t actually do any of the on-stage-in-front-of-an-audience stuff that Thomas relished. 

Thomas frowned before shrugging, trying to lighten his mood with the thought of opposites attracting. Maybe they could be like night and day, different but complementary. 

> **Message received from Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Buddy? You’re a dork lmao. Yeah that works for me.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Thomas tried to fight down the butterflies in his stomach as a blush colored his cheeks. So Virgil calling him a dork hadn’t made him feel bad at all actually. It had made him feel good. Better than good. Great. Fantastic. Super hecking gay. 

Sending a smiley and thumbs up emoji to end the conversation, Thomas sighed happily as he fitted his car key into the ignition, twisting and patting at the steering wheel as his beloved Malibu came to life. Opening up Spotify, he chose a playlist full of total bops which started playing out of his car’s speakers. Turning up the volume, he sang along as he drove out of the parking lot towards home, bobbing his head in time with the beat and smiling brightly.

He was looking forward to tomorrow for sure.

* * *

Virgil pocketed his phone after glancing at Thomas’ last message, his hand joining the outdated device as he looked up and around himself. He was on his way to Patton’s again since he was early leaving school. Early meaning on time since he wasn’t being held back by any lame bully bullshit this time. 

His mind was going over those few messages, quick and short as they were, and he couldn’t help but feel.. Excited? Was this what that felt like? It was kind of like feeling anxious but more positive than negative. It was weird, but not unwelcome. Which was new for Virgil. New meant different and different usually meant bad when it came to him. It was scary but Thomas had an aura that gave off such a warm and positive vibe that it wasn’t overwhelming Virgil like something similar usually would.

Giving his head a shake, Virgil sniffed and reached up to tug his backpack strap further up his shoulder. His dark bangs fluttered in the breeze skating through the street, the leaves that had already fallen skipping over the cement sidewalk in the invisible current. Virgil didn’t hear the crunch as his Converse-clad foot squashed one beneath it since he had his ear buds in again, the familiar dulcet tones of one Brendon Urie crooning into his skull. He wasn’t really paying attention though as his mind was stuck on Thomas.

Thomas, with the brown hair that had subtle caramel highlights and matching pretty brown eyes with the golden flecks that made them glitter. Thomas, with the build of someone who would look beautiful with fingertips pressed into his soft skin, slightly squishy like the sculptures of Greeks that looked way better than the super skinny and waif-like ideal that was held up in current times. Thomas, with the soul that seemed as sweet and warm and simple as freshly baked bread. Not to say that he was boring. Virgil didn’t think so at all. He saw a spark in Thomas that alluded to more than just the friendliness he’d experienced so far.

Virgil was.. Excited. To find out more.

His past had to be far enough away for him to take that chance, right? For him to try and be more normal? Well. As normal as he could be. Normal compared to before. Average? No. He was less than average, more weird than normal. He was.. 

Virgil shook his head again, his upper lip lifting in a snarl, cutting off those thoughts as harshly as he could. His therapist had told him to be more gentle with himself. That letting go of his history was something that would take time, even though the doctor had no idea what that even was. 

Virgil had refused to go into any detail when he started seeing Doctor Emile Picani a couple years ago. The dude was weird, quoting cartoons and stuff that Virgil had never seen but had used them in a way to talk about difficult topics in a more nuanced manner. 

Picani had been understanding, not forcing him to talk about what he obviously didn’t want to reveal. Instead, they talked in generalities, hypotheticals. It worked enough for Virgil to be able to use the techniques Picani had suggested, even though the teen would deliberately ignore the more humane ones in order to punish himself if he were feeling particularly self-deprecating at the time. 

Letting out a sigh, Virgil looked up and realized he was almost at Patton’s bakery. His pace quickened subconsciously and he soon found himself opening the familiar door and stepping inside. 

Since he had more time today than yesterday, Virgil plopped down on a stool at the counters. Humming quietly to himself, he waited. His thoughts returned to his plans for tomorrow. Patterson Park at three in the afternoon. He usually used his day off to get as much sleep as he could, but he figured he’d either still not get much sleep and be awake anyway or he’d be fine getting what he could before he had to get up. 

Virgil had picked meeting at the park because, honestly, he didn’t want Thomas to know where he lived. Not just because he didn’t fully trust him yet but because it wasn’t the nicest of places. There was a reason he had three extra locks on the door besides just the knob. The dingy apartment building was home to druggies and hooligans and the usual types that society deemed unwanted. Which meant it was the perfect place for Virgil.

He usually didn’t give a fuck what others thought about him. He tried not to, anyway. He never had people to invite over in the first place. It would just confirm to them that he was the piece of shit they probably already thought he was. Plus, it just wasn’t safe. Which was fine for him, he was used to not being safe, whatever that actually meant. He didn’t want to put others in danger though.

He didn't want to put Thomas in danger. Again.

He also didn’t want Thomas to think badly of him. He didn’t want Thomas to see how he lived. He didn’t want Thomas to turn away in disgust or distrust or - hell, he didn’t want Thomas to pity him. Virgil despised pity. He’d worked hard to get where he was now and even if he, personally, had a slight almost nonexistent kind of pride in himself for getting there, he was still not… good enough. 

Virgil wasn’t good enough. 

...

Why the hell was he doing this? 

First of all, he didn’t even really know this Thomas kid, so why the hell was he so.. obsessed with giving a good impression? He had never cared before.

Secondly, why the hell did even just thinking about Thomas make his chest feel both heavy and light as air? His heart beat harder, faster? His stomach was in knots that squirmed like worms and made him want to vomit but also made him want to giggle. Fucking. Giggle. 

Virgil did not _ giggle _. 

Letting out a growl, Virgil banged his elbows on the counter top, burying his face in his hands.

“Someone in a bad mood, kiddo?”

Virgil twitched as Patton’s voice came out of nowhere in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed the man coming through the swinging kitchen door. That wasn’t good. Virgil was always aware of what was going on around him when he was awake. He was always alert. He had been distracted, lost in his own thoughts. 

He let out another, less intimidating growl, and he heard Patton giggle. Peeking through his fingers, Virgil glared at the blond, who only smiled back at him brightly when their gazes met. 

“Want a muffin?”

Patton pointed at the platter of double chocolate chip muffins next to them. They were fresh out of the oven it seemed, looking soft and chewy and delicious. Virgil lowered his hands to stare at the goods before looking at Patton.

“I don’t have any money.”

Waving his hand, Patton laughed, “Nah, kiddo, it’s on the house!”

Virgil frowned and crossed his arms.

“I don’t want charity, Pat, you know this.”

Patton rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed up a muffin, bouncing it back and forth between both hands for a moment before biting into it, letting out an almost indecent moan as he chewed. Swallowing, he winked at Virgil and gestured towards the muffins again with his free hand.

“These are on the house because I baked them for us, silly! Friend muffins! Fruffins!”

Patton’s teal eyes twinkled in merriment and Virgil couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. Giving in, he reached out and grabbed one, bringing it to his face and taking in the scent for a moment. Then he shoved the entire thing in his mouth at once. 

Patton nearly choked.

“Virgil!”

Virgil looked at him innocently with his cheeks bulging, though the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away.

Patton stared at him before bursting into laughter, doubling over and holding himself up with the help of the counter, clutching at it like a lifeline. Virgil chewed, cheeks full like a chipmunk’s. The skin sporting the bruise protested at the stretch but it was worth it. 

He finally managed to swallow when Patton pulled himself together, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. 

“Kiddo,” Patton tried to come across serious as he started scolding him, but his cheeks were still flushed and his eyes were still shiny, “don’t do that! You could choke!”

Virgil shrugged and reached out to grab another muffin, the first having jump-started his appetite. He hadn’t eaten yet that day, never eating breakfast anyway and having slept through his lunch period in the library.

Which had been interrupted.

By Thomas.

Fuck, there went his mind again.

Virgil and Patton each devoured another muffin, the silence between them not uncomfortable. Patton watched the teen’s face curiously, noticing the subtle differences in his expression over time. He saw the corners of Virgil’s mouth lift and realized that he was smiling. A soft, small, almost-not-there smile, but it was the most authentic smile Patton had ever seen him wear. He’d never seen Virgil smile like that before. He usually sported smirks, sneers, snarls, frowns, deadpan blank faces, and so on. This was new.

Tapping his finger against his chin, Patton considered his actions before he grinned widely, trying to come across as nonchalant as possible as he started speaking. 

“Kiddo?”

Virgil startled, blinking as he looked up at Patton with a half eaten muffin held in his fingertips. Wiping at the crumbs around his mouth with the sleeve covering his other hand, Virgil raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Have you met someone?”

Virgil’s eyes went wide and the bit of muffin he was holding slipped out of his fingers and fell onto the counter. 

“What? No!” 

He immediately shouted before pressing his hand over his mouth in embarrassment, cheeks dusted with a pretty pink blush. He had never reacted so strongly to something before, especially not such a simple question. 

Patton’s grin widened even more.

“Lying is wrong, Virgie!”

Virgil frowned, his hand falling back down to fiddle with the other in his lap. His gaze shifted downwards, turning his head away slightly as he hid behind his bangs. It took a moment but then he nodded, almost imperceptibly. Patton raised a brow but waited, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter, his chin in his hands. His grin was unwavering and encouraging.

Finally, letting out a groan, Virgil looked back at Patton and rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fine, yes. I met someone.”

Patton bounced up, squealing in happiness. If this someone had made Virgil of all people smile so sweetly, then they had to be pretty awesome!

“Who is it? Was it at school? What’s their name? What grade are they in? Wha-”

“Pat!”

Patton paused his flow of questions, not realizing until then that he hadn’t given Virgil time to reply to any of them.

“Oops! Sorry, kiddo!” 

Virgil rolled his eyes again, grumbling as Patton giggled, poking his tongue out slightly. Virgil sighed and reached up to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes before slipping his hands into his hoodie pockets. He cleared his throat.

“Remember what I told you yesterday, about something happening after school?”

Nodding, Patton pressed his hip against the counter, tilting his head in curiosity like a puppy.

“Well…”

Virgil told Patton what had happened in short, simple sentences. No going into detail, no embellishing. Just straight to the point factual statements. Patton reacted as he would, gasping and frowning and crossing his arms and so on.

Then Virgil had shifted to what had happened today in the library and Patton noticed something different. While Virgil had been blunt about what had happened with Chad and when he’d first met this Thomas (though he'd lit up a little bit when he started talking about him), now it was almost like he was recounting a cherished memory. His cheeks flushed and his grey eyes twinkled. His entire body was animated as he talked about how Thomas had obviously lied about what he’d been doing before Virgil had woken up but it didn’t actually make Virgil too anxious for some reason, even though he had never been okay with people lying to him before, even for small stupid reasons.

Bringing his hand up, Virgil showed the slight blue residue of the phone number Thomas had written there and Patton felt his heart swell in happiness. Virgil continued talking about how Thomas had texted him and how they’d made plans to meet up tomorrow.

Patton was ecstatic. 

Reaching across the counter, he wrapped his arms around Virgil in a hug. The teen squeaked and stiffened for a moment before awkwardly patting at the man’s side as his arms were currently trapped against his sides in Patton’s hold. The blond gave him a squeeze before letting go and rocking back on his feet, grinning so widely at Virgil that the teen thought his face might actually tear in half.

“I am so proud of you, Virgil!”

Virgil blinked before ducking his head down and reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, his voice low and embarrassed.

“W-Whatever…”

* * *

Virgil left soon after that, waving over his shoulder as he headed off to work. Patton watched him happily, waving back wildly even though he knew the teen couldn’t see it. Biting his lower lip, his cheeks still hurting from grinning and laughing so much, Patton practically bounced back into the kitchen. He snatched up the last two double chocolate chip muffins as he walked by the counter, planning on wrapping them up and saving them for when Virgil would undoubtedly visit tomorrow with his new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think so far?


	6. Update

A short update to let everyone know that I've gone over the story so far and edited some things. I added more detail and description as well as a subtle bit of plot. Please read over it if you're interested.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares, laundry, and hanging out with people who might actually be friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder to keep an eye on the tags as I update them as necessary to include trigger warnings and whatnot.

Virgil managed three hours of sleep that night before the nightmares eventually ruined it. 

The terror latched on, tearing at his mind, and he let out a choked scream as he jolted awake, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his knobby knees tightly. His eyes were wide as he looked around himself, not recognizing where he was. His heart pounded and sweat soaked his thin clothes, making them cling to his thin body. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to pull towards him unnaturally, seeping like liquid darkness despite the light filtering through the small covered window.

He eventually realized that he was not trapped in his past. He was sitting on his mattress in his own little apartment. He wasn’t... _ there _ anymore. 

He was okay. He was okay. He was okay. He was… 

He shuddered and began his usual countdown in order to calm himself. 

Inhale. One, two, three, four.

Hold. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Exhale. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Inhale. One, two, three, four.

Hold. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Exhale. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Inhale. One, two, three, four.

Hold. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Exhale. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

When Virgil’s heart and mind had calmed enough for him to be able to think more clearly, he let out a slow, shaky breath. Looking up, he began listing five things he could see.

  1. His phone laying next to him where he’d put it last night.
  2. The laundry basket at the end of his mattress.
  3. His backpack propped up against it.
  4. The door across from him leading into the rest of the building.
  5. The small couch in the middle of the room.

Okay, now four things he could feel.

  1. The mattress below him.
  2. The chilly air of the room.
  3. His tongue licking at his dry lips.
  4. His teeth pressing down into his bottom lip hard enough to almost break skin.

Now three things he could hear.

  1. The muffled shouting from another apartment somewhere in the building.
  2. The dripping of his shitty kitchen faucet.
  3. The sound of early morning traffic outside.

Two things he could smell.

  1. Mold.
  2. Dirty laundry that he hadn’t had time to lug down to the laundromat yet.

One thing he could taste.

  1. The salt of tears.

Letting out a slow breath, Virgil reached up and wiped at his face with the back of his hand, wincing as his bruise protested. His mouth was dry. The more natural shadows were back where they were supposed to be.

Pushing himself up onto his feet unsteadily, Virgil shuffled over to his bathroom door and opened it, stepping inside. Turning on the tap, he let cold water flow over his hands before cupping them and bringing up the meager amount of liquid to his lips, sipping at it. He repeated this a few more times until his mouth no longer felt like a desert before splashing more cold water on his face. He shivered as he reached for the small rag hanging from a hook on the wall, patting at his face to dry it. 

Looking up as he lowered the rag, Virgil caught sight of himself in the cracked bathroom mirror. He looked like shit. His eyebags were prominent, though one blended in with the dark bruise on his left cheekbone. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up all over the place. His pallor was even whiter than usual, which was saying something. His bones poked out like they were trying to escape their flesh prison. Scars, varying in severity, littered his exposed skin. He looked like an undead creature honestly. 

Sighing, Virgil dropped the rag into the sink before stripping himself naked, letting his thin sweat-dampened t-shirt and boxer briefs fall to the floor. Tugging the shower curtain aside, he stepped into the tiny square and turned on the spray to as hot as he could stand it in an attempt to warm himself. 

His skin turned pink as he let the harsh water run over his body, closing his eyes as he faced the shower-head, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He didn’t let himself enjoy the warmth for long as it was already starting to cool. He quickly washed his hair, scrubbed himself raw, rinsed, then turned the water off. 

Stepping out of the shower, Virgil was wracked with shivers again as he dried himself with an old, scratchy towel. Grabbing up his clothes, he left the bathroom. Tossing the shirt, boxer briefs, and towel into his now overflowing laundry basket, he opened his small chest of drawers and pulled out a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black jeans, faded and frayed. Tugging them on, he grabbed a pair of socks and his Converse, stretching the socks over his feet in order to make them fit as they were a size too small before shoving his feet into his shoes.

Virgil was still cold so he also donned his hoodie before walking over to his couch and flopping down on it, snatching up the pack of cigarettes on the small coffee table in front of him. Resting his heels on it, one foot crossed over the other, he took out one cancer stick before lighting it and taking a deep drag. He took a couple more before flicking the ash into the small ceramic bowl on the table. 

Virgil glanced up at the digital clock on the wall. 7:35 am. He had seven and a half-ish hours until he had to meet up with Thomas at the park. That was enough time to grab a cup of cheap coffee and pop by the laundromat.

Finishing up his cigarette, Virgil stubbed out the butt before gathering his laundry into a black mesh bag. He brushed through his hair, making sure it looked as decent as it could. He applied a layer of eyeshadow to cover his eyebags. He checked to see if he had enough quarters to manage actually getting his clothes washed. Finally, he threw the bag of laundry over his shoulder, slipping his phone into his hoodie pocket and exiting his apartment. 

* * *

Sipping at the last dregs of dirty bean water that the corner store had the audacity to call coffee that Virgil had dumped thirteen sugar packets into, he watched the washing machine in front of him rattle as it threw his wet clothes around with the small bit of detergent he’d added. He was on his last load. 

Hearing the ding of the drier, Virgil stood and opened it before shoving the clothing into the mesh bag again unceremoniously. They’d wrinkle, but he had no fucks left to give. 

Settling back onto the hard plastic chair next to the window, Virgil turned to stare blankly out of it. It had been a couple hours since he’d left his apartment and now the city was bustling with activity. People walking past on their way to wherever they were going. It was the weekend, so the teenagers who were usually at school now hung out with their friends on the streets - talking, laughing, shrieking, flirting.

The music in his ears was soft, almost inaudible. Virgil was using it as background noise more than anything as he passed the time. It was almost like he wasn’t even real at the moment. He glanced down at his hand and turned it to face his palm towards himself. He idly flexed his fingers, watching the scar in the webbing of his thumb stretch before turning his attention back to the window. He hummed quietly before blinking slowly as he heard the washer stop. 

He sat down again after starting the drier for the last time. Bending over, he let his head rest on his arms as they folded on top of the plastic table. His eyes closed.

He was so tired.

He’d gotten about ten hours of sleep in the past five days.

He was so fucking tired.

Rubbing his face into his hoodie sleeves, Virgil felt his mind drift off.

He jerked awake about twenty-five minutes later when the drier dinged. 

Rubbing at his face, careful not to smudge his eyeshadow or press into his bruise too hard, he shoved the last of his clothes into the bag with the rest before he headed back to his apartment, tossing his now empty coffee cup into the trash on his way out.

The chill of early morning had lessened into a gentle warmth as the sun had made its way further up into the sky. Squinting, Virgil stepped into his apartment building. Reaching his room, he unlocked the door and set about folding his clothes and putting them away into his dresser. 

He had a couple more cigarettes as he scrolled through his phone, checking the weather and the news for anything he’d have to watch out for. Nothing big had happened lately, thankfully. He spent a little time browsing Tumblr as well, not bothering to post on his own blog. It’d been months since he had last done so. His previous post had been a simple sardonic line wondering what the hell sleep was. It had gotten a few notes apparently.

The clock on the wall read 10:15 am when Virgil looked up again. He was bored. He tried napping again, but that proved fruitless. He started to work on the homework that he hadn’t finished in class.

Why had he decided to attend public high school again?

Oh. Right. For a sense of normalcy. To try and feel like any other teenager. 

Plus, if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met Thomas.

Virgil pursed his lips and glanced at the time again. 11:45 am.

Shoving his finished homework into his backpack, Virgil pushed himself onto his feet and stretched, grunting as his joints popped. Scratching at his jaw, he considered his actions before shrugging to himself, making the decision to start walking to the park since he had nothing else to do. 

Virgil once again left his apartment, locking the door and soon finding himself walking down the street towards Patterson Park. It would take about 30 minutes to get there at his usual pace.

He could people watch for an hour before getting bored. Then he could.. do something else to pass the time. He didn’t know what yet, but whatever. He’d figure it out when he got to that point.

* * *

Virgil was sitting on a bench at Patterson Park, hands in his pockets as he watched the other people in the area. Some were in groups, spread out on blankets - possibly studying or just hanging out. A few people were alone, jogging down the well-worn paths or reading. There were a few out walking dogs.

Tapping his foot against the grass below him, Virgil hummed quietly along to the music in his ears, the volume loud enough for him to lose himself in it this time. He glanced at his phone. 

1:32 pm.

One and a half more hours until Thomas would show up.

Virgil let out a soft breath, looking up at the sky, noting the near nonexistence of clouds. It was a clear day. He almost wished it would rain so he had an excuse of going somewhere else instead of waiting any longer. 

The buzz of his phone in his hand caught Virgil off-guard and he jumped, his gaze flicking down to see that he’d gotten a text. From Thomas. Of course, he was the only one who had ever texted him seeing as how Virgil wasn’t exactly a hot spot of social activity. Opening it, he scanned the message before looking up around himself.

He was already here?

Why was he here already?

Virgil’s phone buzzed again.

> **Message received from Thomas:**
> 
> Got done with chores early! You free now?

Virgil chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. Should he tell Thomas that he was here already as well? It would mean getting to spend more time with him after all. On the other hand, it would probably make Virgil look even more pathetic, like he had nothing else to do. Which he didn’t, but Thomas didn’t know that. 

His fingers moved slowly as he typed, pausing for a whole minute before he pressed send.

* * *

> **Message received from Short Dark & Broody:**
> 
> Sure. I’m already here too anyway lmao. See you at the pond.

Thomas grinned as he read Virgil’s reply, his eyes lifting to look around. He was currently sitting in his Malibu in the parking lot, listening to the randomized Disney playlist he’d chosen on his way there. Pulling the key from the ignition, the music abruptly stopped as he opened the door and stepped out. Shutting the door behind him, he clicked the button to lock it twice before slipping the key into his pocket. 

Thomas practically fast-walked across the park grounds towards the pond he’d spotted in the distance. There was a tree overshadowing the small body of water and a lone figure stood underneath it, leaning against the trunk. 

As he approached, Thomas noticed that Virgil had his arms crossed and eyes closed. He smiled as the other teen snapped his head up when Thomas’ foot crunched a few leaves beneath it. 

Virgil’s grey eyes were dark for a moment before lightening, though his face remained passive and guarded.

“Hey,” Thomas greeted a little breathlessly, grinning a little nervously, “sorry for this, didn’t know I’d get done with chores so early!”

Virgil stared at him for a breath longer before he snorted, rolling his eyes with a small twitch of his lips. 

“It’s not like I wasn’t here already, dork.”

Heart beating a little faster, Thomas’ grin widened and he stepped closer, leaning up against the tree trunk next to the older teen. His arm brushed against Virgil’s hoodie sleeve but Virgil didn’t pull away like Thomas expected. He stayed still, his gaze moving over the pond. Thomas peered at his face out of the corner of his vision, swallowing.

A minute passed in quiet as Thomas tried to think of anything to talk about. Anything at all. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Virgil’s dry quip made Thomas jump, flushing to the tips of his ears. He squeaked when he attempted to speak and he cleared his throat, trying again.

“I-I wasn’t staring!”

Virgil turned to him, an eyebrow quirked in clear disbelief. 

Thomas tried to look away but couldn’t, trapped in the other’s gaze, any excuse he tried to come up with quickly slipping from his mind.

Finally, Virgil’s mouth twitched and he was chuckling, ducking his head down as he hid his smile behind a hand.

Thomas found himself laughing as well. Thinking quickly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and opening the camera. He aimed it at Virgil and took a picture of the older teen. 

Virgil snapped his head up, eyes wide before they narrowed. Thomas’ grin grew. 

“Did you.. actually just take a picture of me?”

“You told me too!”

Thomas shrieked as Virgil launched at him, trying to grab the phone from his hand. He held his arm up as far as he could, clutching the device tightly so he wouldn’t drop it as Virgil tried to practically climb up his body in order to reach it.

“Delete it!”

“Never!”

“Now!”

“I refuse!”

Virgil managed to wrap his arm around Thomas’ neck, pulling himself up while reaching with his free arm towards the evil phone held above him. He did not want Thomas to have a candid picture of him. Virgil _ hated _ candid pictures. Especially if he was smiling or laughing or anything else like that in them. Hell. No.

Thomas was laughing hard, stumbling backwards as he fought to free himself from the smaller teen. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes twinkled and glittered. Virgil glanced down in order to yell another demand at him and his voice caught in his throat. 

Fuck. Thomas was entirely too pretty.

Thomas met Virgil’s gaze and froze. Or he would have, if he didn’t trip over a stick at that very moment. Letting out a yelp, Thomas fell backwards onto his back, Virgil landing on top of him with a grunt. They laid there for a moment, faces inches apart and Virgil practically straddling Thomas’ waist, staring at each other in shock as both of their hearts stopped for a second that seemed to last forever.

Snapping out of it, Virgil leapt forward and snatched Thomas’ phone out of his hand, rolling onto his side on the grass. He went to delete the offending picture but growled as he found the phone locked. Thomas turned onto his side, propping his head up in his hand as he grinned mischievously, knowing exactly what had happened. Virgil twisted around to face him and thrust Thomas’ phone at his face.

“Unlock it!”

Thomas’ tongue poked out between his teeth before he twisted his lips in mock thought. He dropped the act after a moment and smiled sweetly at Virgil.

“Nope!” He popped the p sharply.

Virgil glared at him.

Thomas just smiled back warmly, the twinkle in his eyes ever-present.

Growling, Virgil threw Thomas’ phone back at him, earning a yelp and a “hey!” from the younger teen. Rolling onto his stomach, Virgil pushed himself up onto his feet, brushing the dirt off of himself before starting to stalk off.

“Hey!” Thomas repeated, quickly stumbling to his feet and jogging to catch up to Virgil.

Ignoring him, Virgil turned up his nose and kept his eyes locked ahead, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets.

Thomas frowned and opened his mouth to ask Virgil if he really wanted him to delete the picture. If Virgil wasn’t joking around, Thomas would delete it in a heartbeat if the other teen was actually upset. He didn’t want to make his new friend mad or anything!

Before he could get the words out, however, Virgil jumped ahead and twisted to face Thomas, bringing his arm up. The sound of an electronic shutter went off and Thomas blinked as he took in Virgil’s smirk and the phone held in his direction. 

“Did you just..?”

Virgil’s smirk widened into a grin. Thomas felt his mouth follow suit.

“Fair enough.”

A sweet laugh filled the air and Thomas found himself swallowing hard as his heart once again tried to escape his chest. Virgil was biting down on his lower lip, smiling freely. His cheeks were dusted pink and he was peering up at Thomas through his bangs.

He was doomed.

* * *

Currently sitting underneath the tree next to the pond, they had passed the time talking about random stuff. Asking each other what classes they were taking, what teachers they had. They also played 20 Questions.

Virgil learned that Thomas had a mom and a dad and that he’d moved to the city from across the country two months ago. He had two older brothers who were in college. He loved Disney, even if he wasn’t fond of the higher ups in the company itself. He enjoyed singing and acting but also had an interest in biochemistry due to a childhood memory of something called the Rainforest Rap, which Thomas had promptly given a rendition of when Virgil hadn’t known what it was. The older teen had hidden his face in his hands as he cringed, though there was a small smile on his mouth. 

Thomas had been proven happily wrong about his earlier assumption in thinking that Virgil didn’t care for Disney. Even though the older teen had a much darker view on them, stating that the movies had a load of sinister and more pessimistic messages in them that most people didn’t realize, Virgil had also conceded that they had a lot of good, positive messages as well. 

Thomas also learned that Virgil had joined the theater club as a techie because he had a hidden love for plays and musicals, even if he definitely wasn’t planning to act in front of an audience ever himself. He confessed that he found the emotional impact of stage performances to be more inspiring.

When Thomas had asked about Virgil’s family, about his life, the older teen had been short and guarded, saying that he had a mom who passed away when he was little and a father he wasn’t in contact with anymore. Otherwise, he didn’t go into detail. Thomas could tell he was hiding something but was also extremely uncomfortable with that line of questioning, so he let it go. 

Virgil would tell him when he was ready.

They talked about Joan and Talyn. Virgil admitted that he was a little intimidated by them both, which Thomas found confusing. Why would Virgil be intimidated by them? When he asked, Virgil had shrugged and confessed that he kind of looked up to them a bit. He was impressed that they could both come out as non-binary and be so open about it. 

He paused before continuing.

“I mean, I’m not trans or anything, but it’s pretty awesome to see LGBT people be proud of themselves, y’know?”

Thomas tilted his head, biting his bottom lip before licking at it. He nodded in agreement after a moment.

“Yeah, it is.”

Virgil looked at him curiously, hearing the edge in Thomas’ quiet voice.

“What’s up?”

Thomas took in a deep breath before meeting Virgil’s concerned gaze. He shrugged slightly before letting out a sour laugh.

“It’s just that… Where I used to live, it wasn’t.. really okay. To be LGBT or anything.”

Virgil nodded in acknowledgement. A moment passed in quiet.

“I’m gay.”

Quirking a brow, Virgil peered at Thomas after his confession. The younger teen had drawn his knees up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs. His normally bright eyes were dark, trained on the ground. He seemed nervous. More than nervous. He was scared.

Virgil’s face softened and he leaned over to gently bump his shoulder against Thomas’. 

“Mood.”

Screwing up his face incredulously, Thomas looked over at him.

“Did you just say ‘mood’?”

Virgil grinned, keeping his gaze forward.

Thomas squinted before his body relaxed and he laughed, the light flooding back into his eyes.

“You.. are a memelord.”

Virgil laughed as well, leaning back against the tree trunk and facing Thomas. 

“You hungry?”

Thomas nodded and Virgil stood, holding his hand out towards him. Thomas took the offer and Virgil pulled him up onto his feet. They dusted the dirt off of themselves before they wandered idly in the direction of the parking lot.

“There’s this bakery I go to. My… friend runs it. His name is Patton. We could go there?”

Virgil seemed nervous and Thomas quickly nodded, smiling at him.

“Sounds good to me! Is it in walking distance?”

Twisting his lips, Virgil thought about it. It would take about 30 minutes to walk there from the park. Was that considered walking distance? He didn’t exactly know since he walked everywhere anyway.

“Uh, I’m not sure."

Thomas was confused at that but he shrugged, turning them towards his beloved Malibu.

“We can take my car anyway since it’s getting later in the day. Don’t want to walk the streets in the dark.”

Virgil held back a snort.

Reaching his maroon beauty, Thomas unlocked it and gestured for Virgil to get into the passenger seat. The older teen did so anxiously, not having actually been in a car in a while. He didn’t want to mess anything up. He also was a little nervous about driving through the busy city streets. Some of the people around here were not the safest when it came to handling traffic.

Thomas started the vehicle and Virgil jumped as it started vibrating beneath him. Clicking his seatbelt into place, Virgil fidgeted with his fingers in his lap, tugging at the edges of his sleeves.

“So,” Thomas spoke up as he looked over his shoulder, making sure there was no one behind him as he started backing up, “where is this awesome bakery run by your pal Patton?”

“It’s like, two miles down Elm Street. It’s on the corner of the junction. It’s pretty small but easy to spot if you’re looking for it.”

“What’s it called?”

“Pat’s Isserie…”

Thomas laughed brightly and Virgil’s mouth twitched. Freaking Dad jokes.

* * *

It only took a few minutes for them to pull up to the bakery. Virgil had been anxious the entire drive, though he’d tried to hide it by shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets, fiddling with the loose thread in one of them. His eyes had kept flicking from the passenger window to the mirrors and then to the road in front of them, keeping watch for anything to go wrong.

Thomas, noticing his companion’s quiet nervous energy, had made sure to drive as carefully as he could while trying to keep up a light and casual conversation. Virgil had relaxed a bit and had even responded with small twitches of his lips as if a smile wanted to show but was scared away before it could blossom. Even if his replies had been stilted, Virgil silently appreciated Thomas’ attempt to distract him.

Virgil practically jumped out of the car when Thomas parked in front of the bakery, wincing as the seat-belt slapped against the seat in his haste. He went to apologize, but the younger teen hadn’t noticed so he dropped it.

Leading the way to the door, Virgil barely managed to crack it open before the handle was pulled out of his grip by the explosion of energy that was Patton.

“Virgie! Hi kiddo! This must be your friend, right? Thomas? Oh it’s so nice to meet you!”

Thomas’ eyes were wide as he was bombarded with the bubbly voice that came from the slightly shorter man, blond curls bouncing and a blinding smile aimed in his direction. He didn’t even have any time to react before he was squeezed in a hug.

Virgil couldn’t help the tiny smile that curled his lips, watching as Thomas got blind-sighted. He opened his mouth to rescue the other teen but stopped when Thomas started laughing and actually hugged Patton back tightly, swinging the shorter man around. Patton squealed and giggled before Thomas lowered him back down to the floor.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Patton! I see Virgil’s talked about me, huh? I love the name of your shop! Puns and Dad jokes are, like, my kind of humor.”

Patton, adjusting his glasses on his nose, turned and winked at Virgil knowingly.

“I like this one, he’s definitely a keeper!”

Virgil spluttered and blushed, Patton giggling at his reaction, before the shorter teen pulled his hood over his head and tugged the strings tight, hiding his face in the dark fabric.

Leading the two teens over to the counter, Virgil trailing behind, Patton hopped behind it. 

“Sit! Sit! I have new stuff I want to put out and I need taste testers!”

Before either could say anything, the blond disappeared into the kitchen, the door swinging behind him. Thomas immediately took a stool and Virgil followed suit, crossing his arms over the counter-top. Thomas turned to Virgil, opening his mouth, but was interrupted when Patton reappeared with a small plate of pastries. 

“These are called kolaches!” Patton announced happily, setting the plate down between the boys and standing back with his hands on his ample hips.

“They have jam in the middle, made by my favorite jam company, and are dusted with a bit of powdered sugar!”

There was a pause and Patton tilted his head as he looked between Virgil and Thomas, who both looked shell-shocked. His smile shrank slightly and he wrung his hands nervously.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m a bit too excited, aren’t I?” Patton chuckled halfheartedly, gaze dropping to the counter-top. 

He always did this. He always got too excited, got too overwhelming. He acted without thinking and was impulsive and never thought things through and he was stupid stupid _ stupid _!

Patton could feel the familiar sting of tears building up behind his eyes and didn’t look up when Virgil spoke softly.

“Pat, it’s cool. Don’t worry about it, okay? You know how I am. Plus, Thomas was just as happy to meet you, so it’s all good. These look delicious, by the way.”

Patton glanced up, biting his lower lip, as he watched Virgil pick up one of the pastries before biting into it. The teen chewed for a moment before swallowing. He took another bite.

“Yup, I was right. They are delicious.”

Thomas reached out and snatched one up, biting it in half and letting out a gasp as he chewed. He swallowed and smiled brightly at Patton.

“Virge is right, these are fantastic!”

Feeling the warmth seep back into his chest, Patton’s own false smile turned genuine again, widening as he watched the two boys eat his pastries happily. 

* * *

They chatted as Patton introduced a couple more new pastries, Virgil’s stomach uncomfortably full at the end for the first time in a while. He watched Patton carefully, making sure that the man wasn’t being too hard on himself. When he was convinced that Patton was back to his usual peppy self, Virgil allowed himself to relax. 

“So yeah, Virgil is definitely not what I expected, honestly.”

Virgil looked over when he heard his name, furrowing his brows in Thomas’ direction. 

“What do you mean?”

Thomas shrugged and grinned sheepishly at him.

“I dunno. I guess I thought you were this tough guy punk emo or something, with a secret protective streak. Which is, like, true, but you’re also a total softie.”

Letting out an offended scoff, Virgil pointed his finger in Thomas’ face, scowling.

“I will let you know, Sunshine, that I am _ not _ a softie, thank you very much!”

Thomas grinned and leaned in closer, ignoring the fact that Virgil calling him “Sunshine” had made his heart thump and the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

“Are too!”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms, definitely not sulking as he shot back a sharp, “Am not!”

Thomas then did the most ridiculous thing ever. He booped Virgil on the nose, actually saying a soft “boop” as he did so. 

Virgil blinked, crossing his eyes to stare at the end of Thomas’ finger before flushing as he realized what had happened.

“H-Hey! What the fuck!”

“Virgil! Language!” Patton scolded, though it was a little ruined by his giggles.

Laughing brightly, Thomas let his hand fall to the counter-top, his head tilting back slightly and his eyes closed. 

Virgil swallowed hard and grumbled as he forced himself to look away, hunching his back and swearing mentally at himself to get a grip. His shell was cracking, apparently, and it was annoying. It would be a pain in the ass to fix.

He peeked back at Thomas, who had opened his eyes again and was listening to Patton talk about how Virgil definitely was a total sweetheart on the inside, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

“Like a burnt marshmallow! Black and crusty on the outside, but gooey on the inside!”

Virgil’s scowl softened into a small smile as he rolled his eyes at the comparison.

Maybe it would be okay for him to let a couple people in.

* * *

Virgil and Thomas spent the next four hours hanging out with Patton in his bakery. It was almost 9 pm when Virgil checked his phone and he was surprised at how quickly the time had passed. He’d never been around other people willingly for so long and he had actually enjoyed himself. He’d had fun. That was… unusual for him.

Looking up, he caught Thomas’ curious gaze and he turned his phone screen to face the other teen. Thomas tilted his head and shrugged casually.

“I don’t have to be home until, like, two in the morning at the latest. Did you want to do something else or go somewhere?”

Virgil shrugged as well.

“I don’t really hang out with other people so I dunno where we could go honestly.”

Patton, who had gone to the bathroom, returned at the end of Virgil’s sentence. He hummed and tapped at his chin before smiling.

“Why don’t you two go see a movie?”

Virgil blinked at him blankly and Patton shrugged. There was a lot of shrugging going on at the moment it seemed.

“There was one that came out recently, I forget what it’s called, but apparently it’s really good!” Patton continued, pulling his phone out and quickly tapping at the screen. He searched for a few minutes before letting out an “a-ha!” and turning his phone screen towards the two teens.

_ Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet yo.


	8. Update #2

I've decided to do a complete overhaul on this story so far. I'm going to rewrite everything and hopefully bump up the quality. Cross your fingers for me please, I desperately need all the good luck I can get honestly.

I'm also going to ask a few people to beta read it for me since I've been writing and editing this entirely on my own from the beginning whilst mostly sleep-deprived in the wee hours of the morning.

Since this is the first time I've written anything at all in a little over two years, the last being my first attempted multi-chapter fic (long since abandoned), I'm extremely rusty and it shows.

I'm going to keep up the original - putting "Undergoing Revision" after the title (which I will be shortening to "TBTFTNK") - until I'm done with everything and then I will post the revised version chapter by chapter once every week.

I apologize for the change up but I hope the revised work will be well worth the wait!


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